Coming to Terms
by January Lily
Summary: Julie Yoast is used to hiding in the shadows of being the coach's daughter, but when the schools in Alexandria are integrated she finds herself coming to terms with her new place in the fight for equality. *eventual Gerry/OC*
1. The Same Deep Water as You

**Chapter 1: The Same Deep Water as You**

* * *

To say that it was hot as hell outside probably would have been a vast understatement. It was hotter. Hotter _than_ hell—or at least, that's what I liked to think. I fanned my face with my hand as I walked the familiar path from the asphalt parking lot to the football field with my kid sister, Sheryl, in tow. Well, if I was being honest, Sheryl was several paces ahead of me skipping toward the field, but that was just a minor detail. What really mattered was that we practically lived on the football field, even before Mama had left us. But now it was just Sheryl, Coach, and I. A broken family held together by one thing: football.

I didn't even want to think what would happen to our family if that game was no longer a part of our lives. You see, Daddy was the head coach of the Hammond High School football team—and they were pretty damn good, thanks to my daddy. Sheryl, was a spitfire at nine years old, helped Coach out with the team; but it was obvious that she lacked frequent interactions with a motherly figure. I tried my best—but that wasn't my job. I was only seventeen years old and on the football field, I preferred to observe—not wanting to get too caught up in the game, despite my harbored passion for it.

I was already made fun of enough simply for all the time I spent on the gridiron by both boys and girls. High school was rough enough as it is and I didn't need to make it any worse. I knew my classmates would think less of me if they knew I could throw a football just as well as most of the boys on the team—maybe even better. Well, there was one person who knew; but I had sworn him to secrecy when we were little and so far, he hadn't betrayed my secret…yet. Although, I wasn't sure how much longer that was going to last.

Sheryl started to run farther ahead of me onto the practice field while I sat down on the bench nearest to the shade. I was here because I had to be, not because I wanted to be…or at least, that's what I wanted people to think. If I was being completely honest, I was really looking forward to seeing the team win this year. We had a good team. They were going to win state, I just knew it. As I sat down on the bench I adjusted my blouse which was sticking to skin, it was so humid. Summers in Alexandria could be brutal.

I reached into my book bag and pulled out my copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ before I began to fan myself with it. At least good literature was good for something, right? I'm just kidding. I'm a bit of a bookworm in between my tomboyish ways. Yet another reason for the girls to make fun of me. I haven't exactly been trained to be ladylike or a future homemaker. Coach ain't much of a lady and Mama ain't around. So, I've been teaching myself…fine, more like miserably failing at teaching myself. While my Mama may have abandoned us, she did have some influence over me and a love of literature was one of those things. But I would much rather read the book than fan myself with it. So I looked around me to see if there was anyone watching.

The coast looked clear, so I dug in my bag once more and pulled out the Hammond baseball cap Coach had given me for my birthday two years ago. I piled my long sandy-blonde hair on the top of my head before pulling the baseball cap over. I opened my book up to the page I had marked.

 _Pride and Prejudice_ was only my favorite books as cliché as that may sound. I tried to read it at least once every summer break since I was fourteen. There was just something about Elizabeth Bennett's relationship with Mr. Darcy that makes one's heart swoon. While I had never gone steady with anyone, I really was a romantic at heart. It's not that I didn't want to go steady with anyone, it's just that…well, Coach could be a bit intimidating.

I heard that Alan once was going to ask me to a dance, not even going steady or anything, just a dance; but whatever Coach told him convinced him not to. I tried talking to Coach about it, but he just denied anything ever happened. I still think Coach sees me as a little girl, not as a nearly grown woman who was probably going to leave him for college next year—to pursue some sort of degree that I was pretty sure would once again make me the odd-one-out in a man's world.I was going to be a senior in high school this year, not starting the third grade; but I suppose that's just daddies for you: overprotective.

I adjusted the brim of my baseball cap before I turned my attention back to my book. I was to the part where Mr. Bingley came back for Jane. And soon I'd be to my favorite part: Elizabeth and Darcy finally admitting their love for each other. Sometimes I wish a Mr. Darcy would swoop-in and find me, but then I got a reality-check and realized that there were no Mr. Darcy's in front of me, especially not on the gridiron. I turned the page when I was rudely interrupted.

"Hey there, Julie," Gerry Bertier greeted me.

I looked up to find him standing right in front of me. Shielding my eyes, I commented, "You're blocking my sun."

Gerry chuckled to himself and sat right beside me on the bench. I rolled my eyes and turned so that my back was to him. I tried to continue reading my book, but he obviously wasn't giving up. Instead of giving up, the obnoxious boy started to poke at my back until I turned around and glared at him. He just smiled. "What ya, readin'?"

"None of your beeswax, Bertier."

"C'mon, Juju don't be rude. I'm sure Coach won't like about hearin' 'bout you bein' rude to his best player."

"First of all, it's Julie. Ju—lee. Not Juju. Just because you heard my kid sister calls me that, doesn't mean you get to. Second, the only way Coach would find out is if _you_ told him. Thirdly, if you really think you're his best player, you've got another thing coming, Bertier. You hardly rank in Daddy's top ten."

I turned my back toward him once more. He remained silent for a moment as I hoped he didn't see through my blatant lie. Gerry Bertier was by far Coach's best player, but there was no way in hell I was going to give him the satisfaction of thinking I thought so. Gerry Bertier was probably the most self-centered, egotistical, arrogant boy on the team. Well, besides Ray, but Gerry was in a close second.

It was funny because Gerry and I were friends when we were younger. We both had a parent walk out on us, giving us something to bond over. He used to come over to the house quite a bit. Most folks thought he was working on his game with Coach, which was partly true; but he also used to come over to play with me, but when we got to high school things changed. He became the popular, well-liked football player while our friendship was left trailing in his dust. Not to mention that his girlfriend was probably the person who hated me most. He claimed he was just in a hard place with Emma, but really he should just man-up and not let her dominate his life. But then again, going steady with someone meant that you had certain hold on someone else and sometimes stooped to their level of pettiness.

"You stayin' for practice?" Gerry asked breaking the silence.

"You already know the answer to that," I retorted.

"Hey, I'm tryin' to be nice here."

"What would your girlfriend think of you bein' nice." Gerry didn't answer. I turned my head to look back at him, as he appeared deep in thought, but I just shook my head at him. "That's what I thought."

I roughly stood up, not even noticing my book fall from my lap. I just wanted to get away from that boy who infuriated me. I stormed away from the immature football player across the field toward the table where my sister was filling up cups of water for the team. Coach was over there too, talking with her as she worked. I only hoped he didn't see me stomping away from Gerry, otherwise, I was in for some trouble. But it's not like housework was much of a punishment. I already was doing most of the housework: cooking, cleaning, laundry, and babysitting; but Coach's silence and disappointed looks were enough to drive one mad.

I was almost to the table when I hear Gerry Bertier calling my name from behind me. I groaned before I turned around to see him hurtling toward me, with my book in his hand. I stop and fold one arm across my chest while I hold the other one out for him to place the book in.

"You forgot this," he said.

"I can see that," I retorted holding my hand out to take it back. "Give it here."

" _Pride and Prejudice;_ what's it about?"

"Something you and your tiny brain can never possibly begin to understand." I attempted to snatch the book from his hand, but he then held it above my head. I couldn't reach the thing. I jumped a few times to get it, but he then just raised it higher. So, I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. He smiled at me before he handed the book back, saying that he was just teasing. I gave him a fake smile before I turned around on my heel and walked toward my little sister, Sheryl.

"You're welcome!" Gerry called after me. I raised my hand in the air to acknowledge his response. If my sister and Coach hadn't been there, I would've considered being very unladylike and flipped him the bird; but I refrained. I walked over to the table and took one of the paper cups filled with water and drank it quickly. Sheryl yanked at my arm causing the paper cup to go flying to the grass.

"Hey! That's for the team," Sheryl complained.

"I'm close enough to being part of the team," I responded. Sheryl gave me a pointed look. She had near perfected that look and no doubt she had learned it from me.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I? Maybe I have amnesia or something."

"You'd better be nicer to me or I'll tell Coach you was arguin' with Gerry Bertier again." Damn, she was good. For being nine, she was already becoming a professional at manipulation. But I really didn't want to get in trouble again. I was still in trouble from two practices ago for arguing with Gerry in front of Coach. For once I just wanted to be on Coach's good side. For once I wanted to show him that I was capable of some maturity and that there was a reason he depended on me as much as he did. It was just that everything Bertier did made my blood boil. I leaned close to my sister's ear.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing now, but you'll know when I do."

"Fine." Coach walked up to us and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Was that Gerry bringing you your book back?" Coach asked. I nodded my head in response, not really wanting to voice the words. "Nice boy; he's a real nice boy."

I bit my tongue as Sheryl looked over to me with a smirk on her face. She's had it in her mind for years that Gerry and I were gonna wind up married someday. And the only way that would happen would be if hell froze over and he was the only man left on the planet…and even then it was still a slim chance. Coach patted my back before he walked away toward the field where his football players were beginning to huddle around the fifty-yard line. I looked back to my sister and she shook her head.

"There's no way this is gonna last," Sheryl said.

"You just do your part and keep your mouth shut," I responded.

"It's not me you need to worry about." I ruffled my little sister's hair to which she responded by pushing me away. So I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her from behind.

"Juju, stop. I'm tryin' to watch."

"They just started. I doubt anything interesting will happen anytime soon."

"Let. Go." I released my sister and placed a kiss on the top of her head before I told her to get a drink. In this heat, one had to drink plenty of water. "You ain't my mom."

"Good as." Sheryl rolled her eyes as she plopped herself in front of the water table to watch the practice. I sat on the grass too, but I turned my back to the practice and opened my book again.

"C'mon Kurt, don't let Ray back you down like that!"

"I'm trying to read," I hissed at her. She turned around and stuck her tongue out at me before she went back to watching the team practice.

"You're twice his size!"

"Sheryl!"

"Aargh, what are they doing?" I turned around to see Gerry sack Alan. As much as I loathed, Gerry, he was going to lead this team to victory this year. "If they keep playing like that, we'll lose every game!"

"I didn't think that was so bad."

"Shows what you know."

"Hey, I've been on a football field since before you were born."

"I thought you didn't care about football."

"I—I don't. I just happen to know about it."

"Mhmm, right, you keep telling yourself that."

I shook my head and tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. Little sisters could be so annoying sometimes. But then again, it wasn't easy playing mom to someone who was only supposed to be your sister. I never really knew what my role was as far as Sheryl was concerned. Was I supposed to suck-it-up and act like the mother? Or was it a moment when playing the annoyed older sister was appropriate? This time, I just let the conversation drop. There was no use in getting her all riled-up. I sighed and reached over to ruffle Sheryl's hair when she knocked my hand away and pointed off in the distance.

One of the senior boys who wasn't out for the football team, but was still popular with the guys came running down the field. He was screaming at the top of his lungs for the other boys to get down to the store. Something was happening, but after that, the only words I could make out were colored and shot. My heart sank and I instinctively reached for Sheryl's arm. This wasn't good. A colored kid had recently been shot not too long ago and now the town was up in arms, especially with the forced integration they were planning. Everyone and everything was tense in Alexandria. To be honest, it was all somewhat terrifying and I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about the situation. I just wanted to make it out of high school alive.

I could see Coach tense up as I held on tight to a struggling Sheryl. He started yelling something at the boys; but without even listening to a word Coach was saying, the boys took off in a sprint headed for downtown. I was somewhat thankful when Coach Herb came running for us. He opened his arms for Sheryl to run into. He swiftly picked her up with one arm and wrapped his other arm around me. I tried to watch the boys, but Coach Herb told me to keep my head down until we got to the school.

After one last glance at the boys who were becoming small black dots, I lowered my head and focused my eyes on the ground. Coach Herb opened the door into the school for me, still holding onto Sheryl before he led us into Coach's office. I opened the door and stopped suddenly in my tracks, causing Sheryl, whom Coach Herb had let down, to run into my backside. She went crashing down to the floor, but I stayed there as if I were frozen in place. I definitely wasn't expecting someone to be standing in my father's office. And I especially wasn't expecting to be seeing _him_.

 **Author's Note:** **I'm reposting stories I deleted in a rash decision. Sorry.**


	2. Rock You Like a Hurricane

**Chapter 2: Rock You Like a Hurricane**

* * *

I couldn't believe it. I slowly blinked as I stared at the colored man standing in front of me with my mouth gaping. I knew it wasn't proper manners to do so, but I really couldn't help it. Especially give the ruckus going on downtown at that very moment.

The man was sharply dressed in a suit coat and necktie as he tossed a football in his hands out of pure boredom. Now normally, I wouldn't act so out-of-sorts, but the problem was that this man was standing at my daddy's desk playing with _our_ championship ball from last year. Of course, the man probably didn't know the value of the object. How could he? Although it did raise the question, who in his right mind would play with someone else's belongings? I was certainly raised better than to do _that_.

When Sheryl finally managed to stand on her feet once again, she tried to push me toward him. Thankfully, I was bigger. I stood my ground and didn't budge. She groaned before she side-stepped me and looked right at the man before us. "Who are you?" Sheryl blurted.

"Sheryl, that's rude," I reprimanded her, flicking her behind the ear.

She groaned and held her hand up to her ear before looking at me with her eyes narrowed. "Do you know who he is?"

"You know I don't." I rolled my eyes before I continued. "I've never even seen him before."

My younger sister folded her arms across her chest. "Then are you gonna ask who he is or not?"

"Now, if you'd just give me a minute to talk to him, maybe I'd be able to." Younger sisters could be so annoying sometimes. I then looked at the man in front of my daddy's desk. The man nodded his head toward us before he tossed the football once more in his hands. It was clear he had been watching the exchange between Sheryl and myself. I faked another smile.

I then pulled Sheryl directly in front of me and placed my hands on her shoulders. I dug my fingernails into her shoulders to keep her from going anywhere. She yelped in pain under my grasp, trying to swat my hands away, but I moved my grip from holding tightly onto her shoulders to yanking on the back of her overalls. Sheryl still tried to fight to get away from me, but this time she was trapped. She could only get a few inches before being pulled back toward me.

The man in front of us looked at us with an amused expression on his face, as if the scene was quite familiar to him. Since he wasn't going to say anything, I reasoned that I probably should. "I'm sorry for my sister's lack of manners," I apologized. "We're working on them."

"She's young yet," the man spoke as he shrugged his shoulders. "I got a girl about her age."

"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" I was trying my best to maintain my composure, but at the same time, I was curious enough to want to know who he was.

The man in front of me moved to stretch his hand forward like he was thinking about extending it forward. Instead, he brought it to his head and scratched behind his ear. He then responded, "I'm Herman Boone, the new assistant coach. And you two young ladies might be?"

I bit my bottom lip before I responded. "I'm Julie and this is Sheryl." I pointed nodded down toward my sister before looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "And you're at my daddy's desk."

The man opened his mouth to speak before he simply nodded his head. He set the football down back on Daddy's desk and then took a small step away from it. "Nice to meet you, Julie and Sheryl."

"Wish I could say the same."

He must have caught onto my sarcasm, but wasn't sure if that was how I _actually_ had responded because his brow furrowed as he questioned,"Excuse me?"

But I never responded to him. I looked beyond him and out the window. Through the blinds, I could see my daddy's truck pulling back into the parking lot. As much as this man standing in my daddy's office bothered me, I was quite curious to see what had taken place. Right now Alexandria drama seemed a little more interesting than a man who was threatening to change a stupid boys' football program.

I slowly inched backward, "Now, if you'll please excuse me, there's something I need to be checking into."

"No there's not," Sheryl said bluntly.

"Yes, there is," I said through gritted teeth before I faked a cough. "I got a tickle in my throat. I-I need a drink of water." I pulled Sheryl by her overalls out of the office, leaving the new coach standing alone in my daddy's office. I released my sister as we began to walk down the hallway.

She folded her arms childishly across her chest as we walked. "I know you're not thirsty," she muttered.

"You're right, I lied. But Coach is back and I wanna know what happened. Don't you?"

Sheryl's interest piqued as she ran in front of me as I walked to meet Coach. Once outside, we found Coach Tyrell waiting by the door that Coach was going to walk through. He tried to tell us to go back to Coach's office, but the door flung open before he could enforce what he was telling us to do.

Coach walked through the door with Alan, Gerry, Ray, and John. Alan noticed me standing there. He smiled and nodded his head at me. John and Ray simply nodded their heads, while Gerry ignored me. It was as if he only noticed me when no one was around. Although, right now he was just too pissed off to even notice me.

Sheryl and I ran to catch up with Coach, who was followed by Coach Tyrell and the boys. Not watching where I was going, I ran into Gerry, quite literally. He glanced over at me but didn't say anything as Coach Tyrell started talking to him while I passed him to walk next to my father.

"Gerry, son, your heart's in the right place, but you ought to know better than to embarrass the coach like that," Coach Tyrell spoke. I looked back at Gerry, but his face was like stone. He scowled for a moment before he began to talk.

"Hell, why don't you just kick them all off the team?" Gerry sneered. "I don't want to play with any of those black animals."

Gerry finished his sentence as we rounded the corner into Coach's office, only to find the man who had been waiting for Coach, still there. This man who claimed to be the new assistant coach was still standing there holding that damnfootball, , he must have picked back up.

The man must have heard Bertier because he was looking right at our group in the doorway. Everyone's eyes widened at the sight of him, well everyone except for Sheryl and me. Seeing as we had already met the man.

"Nice one, Bertier," I hissed.

"Shut it, Julie," Gerry scoffed.

Daddy stood the closest to the stranger in the office, while Coach Tyrell stood back a few steps with his arms folded across his chest. He was clearly trying to intimidate the man. "Who are you?" Coach Tyrell blurted.

"As I already told the young ladies, I'm Herman Boone. I'm the new assistant coach," the man spoke.

Daddy, Coach Tyrell, and the boys looked at myself and Sheryl. I grinned sheepishly as Daddy shook his head. "Julie, you and your sister go for a little walk," Coach said. I stood there and waited for him to dismiss the boys, but he didn't. Coach pushed Sheryl over to me.

My brown furrowed. "What about them?" I asked as I nodded to the boys.

Coach folded his arms across his chest. He meant business. "You're my daughter and that was an order."

While I probably shouldn't have continued to defy him, I didn't think it was fair that the boys would be allowed to stay but I had to leave. So, I pointed that out. "Fine we'll go, but what about them?"

Coach's jaw jutted. He wasn't pleased with my response. "You worry about you and your sister and do as you're told."

I rolled my eyes childishly and groaned, "This is completely unfair."

Coach shot me a look and I knew that was my last cue to take Sheryl and leave without facing repercussions. Hell, I was probably already facing them for acting disrespectfully in front of a complete stranger. But it wasn't fair that the boys got to stay in there and I wanted to make sure that he realized that. The women's suffrage movement hadn't been for nothing, not that he cared.

Sheryl and I walked out of the office and into the hallway. I leaned up against the locker closest to the door, knocking my head backward onto it. Sheryl leaned against the locker across the hallway from me with the same glum expression on her face.

I wanted to sneak back and figure out what was going on. But I couldn't do it if Sheryl was going to tattle on me. Plausible deniability was my best option. "Why don't you go for a walk or something," I suggested.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm not going if you're not," Sheryl sassed.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Well, you're younger and should do as you're told."

"So should you."

Damnit. She had me there. I groaned, "Well it's not fair that he lets them boys be in there. I'm older than Alan and he gets to be in there."

"Coach isn't gonna be happy when he finds out you're listening."

.

"You're annoying, you know that?"

"So are you. But I'm nine, what's your excuse?"

"Fine, how 'bout this: we both stay here and listen and no one does any tattling? Deal?" I held my hand out.

Sheryl held her hand out and we both shook the air. "Deal."

"Good, now get over here and be quiet." I motioned for her to come to my side of the hallway quick.

Sheryl quickly tiptoed across the hallway and we both inched closer to the office door. She stood the closest and I stood behind her, leaning slightly over her trying to hear what they were saying in there. I poked my head around the corner to see into the office, but the colored man noticed me and raised his eyebrows at me. I quickly pulled my head back; there wasn't much of a prayer to get a good look in there. We were stuck just with listening.

"I won a couple of titles down in North Carolina," the new coach stated.

"That's double "A" ball," Coach Tyrell scoffed. "This here's Virginia. We play triple "A" ball."

"What an opportunity for me then…" the new coach started before pausing for a moment. "To learn…from the best."

"Well, I think that's enough for today," Coach said. "I'm sure we'll be in touch."

I could tell that Coach was trying to dismiss the man as civilly as he could, but I could tell from his tone that he was none too happy about the last part. I heard the man thank Coach for allowing him a moment of his time before his footsteps could be heard coming closer toward them. I quickly pulled Sheryl away from the corner and slid to the floor.

"Act natural," I hissed at Sheryl.

Sheryl nodded and followed my direction as she slid to the floor. I then slid her across the tile floor so that she sat in between my legs as I began to braid her hair which was already pulled back in a ponytail. The colored coach walked out and looked down both directions of the hallway before he looked down to Sheryl and me on the floor.

I pretended not to notice and focus on Sheryl's unruly hair while my younger sister sat with her head in her hands while I played with her hair. Sheryl looked up at the man and he nodded his head. "Your secret is safe with me ladies," the man stated.

"What secret?" Sheryl asked innocently.

"Don't know what you're talking 'bout, sir. I've been sittin' here fixin' my sister's hair," I added.

"You girls may be able to fool your daddy with that act, but you can't fool me," the man said.

"What are you gonna do about it?" I asked.

The man shook his head. I looked up to him and nodded my head. He pretended to have a hat on his head to tip forward before he walked down the hallway, headed straight for the door. Sheryl and I still continued to sit on the floor while I played with her hair. "That was close," I said.

"Yeah because you opened your big, fat mouth," she said.

"He already knew. He saw me trying to look in the office. What was I supposed to do, lie?"

"You don't seem to have a problem lyin' to Coach."

"I don't lie to Coach..." I began. Sheryl turned around and gave me a pointed look. "Much. I don't lie much."

"You still lie to him."

"A little white lie never hurt nobody," I said as I tugged a little extra hard at Sheryl's hair for effect.

Her hand flew back to her hair, but I moved it out of the way. "Ouch, that hurt."

"You should try brushing your hair."

Sheryl shot me a pointed look. "I brushed it this morning."

But I knew she was bluffing. I had watched her roll out of bed, head downstairs for breakfast, and then go right out the door. "Now who's the one lyin'?"

"Fine, I brushed it last night," Sheryl said wincing in pain. "Besides, I thought you said a little white lie never hurt nobody."

"Looks like I lied," I chuckled, but my sister didn't. She just groaned.

But the more I thought about it, Sheryl did have a point. I probably lied to Coach more than I should have, but what else did he expect? After all, I was still partially my Mama's daughter despite the lack of her presence in my life.

The boys began to walk out of the office, so I stood up to follow them to try and get some more information out of them. Well, by them I was going to get it out of Alan. He always had a soft spot for me and I could at least stand him. "Alan," I called as I jogged after him.

Alan stopped and looked back, but so did Gerry who held back Ray from walking any farther by placing his hand on his friend's chest. I tried to ignore Gerry's looks as I jogged up to Alan while Gerry stood only a few feet away with Ray.

"Hey Julie," Alan smiled.

"I was wonderin' if you could tell me what happened in there," I said sweetly.

"Well, Coach…"

"He won't find out that I know. And if he does, I'll just tell him Bertier told me."

I looked over to Bertier and raised my eyebrows, daring him to challenge me. He didn't say anything, but instead he walked over to where Alan and I stood in the hallway. Alan looked at us and even he could easily see the tension between Gerry and me. Alan placed his hands up in defense as he looked between Gerry and me. "I don't wanna cause any trouble," Alan stated.

"I promise you that any trouble won't be started because of _you_ ," I said glaring at Gerry who just shook his head.

"Well, I…" Alan fumbled for words.

"You wanna know what happened?" Gerry questioned, taking a step closer toward me and towering over me. He was trying to intimidate me. But I held my ground.

"Not from you," I scoffed.

"Well, I'll tell you what's not going to happen. I ain't gonna be playin' for no Coach Coon." Gerry looked rather angry. He had over a foot in height on me, but I was not going to be intimidated by him. Especially now that he was trying to make a show in front of Alan and Ray. He could be nice and sweet to me with only my father and sister present but throw anyone else in the mix and Gerry Bertier became an ass.

"You can play the tough guy Bertier, but just remember that I know things you don't want gettin' out," I hissed.

I knew I had probably just delivered a low punch to him, but I was sick and tired of his games. He quickly backed away and bit his bottom lip. He immediately knew what I was referring to. I had seen him cry so many times that I probably couldn't even count them all. Having his football teammates knowing that he was somewhat in touch with his emotional side could be easily embarrassing.

"My mama taught me right, so I'm not gonna get into this with you and simply walk away," Gerry said.

"A move you've perfected," I retorted.

"Julie Elizabeth Yoast," Coach shouted.

I groaned and threw my head back as I could hear my father stomping toward me. I was in trouble. He probably hadn't even heard the entire conversation. Probably only the bits where I had been nasty to Bertier. Through narrowed eyes, I looked at Bertier who was turning away attempting to hide the smile on his face. I then turned my head to see my father standing in between Alan and me with his arms folded across his chest and a stern look on his face.

"Apologize," Coach said sternly.

I looked at him and I could tell that he meant business. If I wanted any life outside of chores and going to football practices, I had to do as he said; and even then it wasn't guaranteed.

"Sorry," I muttered in Gerry's direction.

"Julie Elizabeth you know how to speak properly," Coach reprimanded.

"It's fine, Coach," Gerry said.

"No, it's not Gerry. Go on, Julie."

I folded my arms across my chest. I knew that there was no way of getting out of this unless I just grit my teeth and did it. So, I did. "I'm sorry, Bertier," I apologized once more through gritted teeth.

Coach shook his head and looked at me disappointedly. "Julie go wait in the truck with Sheryl while the boys and I carry some boxes out."

"Yes, Coach."

I looked for my sister and we walked out of the school to Coach's truck where I would soon be receiving my punishment for sassing Gerry Bertier. I don't know what it was about that boy, but something about him got me all riled up and I really needed to stop letting Gerry Bertier get the better of me.

* * *

 **Author's note: Chapter 2 is back up! Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story. Means a lot!**


	3. A Change is Gonna Come

**Chapter 3: A Change is Gonna Come**

* * *

By the next day, I stood at the stove stirring a pot of mac & cheese for lunch. Personally, I thought it was too hot to make mac & cheese, but Sheryl had asked and so I obliged. I would have been more than satisfied with just a sandwich, but my maternal instincts toward my sister won me over. And what was mac & cheese without hot dogs sliced up and mixed in? It's about as _gourmet_ as my cooking gets. I turned the burner that was cooking the hot dogs off before I went to strain the noodles.

It was almost time to eat. I glanced at the table and rolled my eyes. I had told Sheryl to set it when I started cooking and it still hadn't been done. "Sheryl!" I called dumping the noodles into the colander. "Get your little buns in here and set the table." She didn't respond, so I hollered, "Now!"

"Geez, I was coming," Sheryl groaned as she walked into the kitchen a few seconds later as I dumped the ingredients for the mac & cheese into the pot.

I glanced at her over my shoulder as she wiped her hands on her overalls. She reached for the upper cupboard door where we kept the plates, but I swatted at her hand and pointed to the sink. "Wash your hands first. Daddy ain't gonna wanna eat on plates touched by your grubby hands."

Sheryl looked down at her hands and frowned. "They ain't grubby."

"Were you playing outside?" I asked her with my hands on my hips.

She rested her hands on her eyebrows and arched an eyebrow at me. "Yeah," she responded as if the answer was obvious. She was gonna be trouble some day, but I had to stay strong. Sheryl was my responsibility.

So, I didn't back down. "And have you washed them since you got inside?"

"No," she muttered, knowing full-well that I had her there and that _I_ was gonna win this one.

I smiled. "Then they're grubby. Wash 'em and _then_ set the table."

Reluctantly and grumbling under her breath the entire time, Sheryl did as she was told. When she wasn't looking, I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't easy playing mother to your sister. I started slicing up the hot dogs as Sheryl set the table before I mixed them in with the mac & cheese.

"Is there anything for dessert?" Sheryl asked.

I looked back to find her leaning against the kitchen peninsula and behind her, the table was set. I then nodded my head toward the refrigerator. "I made Jell-O," I responded.

Her expression soured for a moment. "Did you mess it up this time?" she asked.

After rolling my eyes, I said, "I followed the directions." Which was true, but I also thought I followed the directions the last time.

"Sure, you did."

"I did," I quickly retorted back at her, despite knowing that it probably wasn't the best idea to argue with a ten-year-old. Thankfully, Daddy chose that time to walk into the room, which shut both of us up.

"Smells good," he said offering me a smile. I smiled back at him. I knew he was grateful that I had slowly taken over the cooking responsibilities because, despite my poor cooking skills, he was even worse. To be fair though, I was pretty sure I received a few more cooking lessons than he had.

Daddy sat down at the table and looked at my sister. "Sheryl, why don't you give your sister a hand."

Before Sheryl could say something about already having helped me, I said, "I got it. Just gotta bring the food over to the table." He nodded his head and gestured for Sheryl to sit down as I dumped the macaroni, cheese, and hot dog concoction into a serving dish. Honestly, I would have sooner preferred just to set a hot pad on the table and then set the pot on that because it would mean fewer dishes, I knew that it wasn't the _proper_ way to do things.

Once the macaronidish, , the store-bought rolls, and a pitcher of lemonade were on the table, I sat down to eat with my family. Daddy said grace and then Sheryl quickly scooped herself some macaroni. I said a silent prayer hoping that I hadn't messed the dish up. But I breathed a sigh of relief when my sister took a second bite without commenting on the first. I then dished myself some food and began to eat.

We were almost finished with lunch when the doorbell rang. Daddy told Sheryl to go answer the door and she did as she was told. A few moments later a man from the school board followed Sheryl inside. "I apologize for the interruption," the man said.

"Why don't you join us, Jim," Daddy said gesturing to the open seat. "Julie makes a mean mac & cheese that'll make her future husband a happy man someday" He gave me a quick wink and I felt my face flush. I knew he was just trying to be nice and compliment me, but it wasn't _that_ good.

The man smiled at me and nodded. "I wish I could, but I told Helen I'd be back for lunch."

Daddy softly smiled. "So, what can I do for you, Jim?" he asked.

Jim shifted rather uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should discuss this in your office." It was obvious that whatever he wanted to tell Daddy, he didn't want to do in front of Sheryl and me. But Daddy figured that out too.

"Anything you need to tell me you can say in front of my girls," Daddy said folding his arms across his chest. "Besides, they're just gonna listen in and find out anyway." Sheryl and I looked at each other rather sheepishly, but we both knew it was the truth.

Jim slowly exhaled a breath he must've been holding onto. "Then why don't we do this outside. I don't wanna spoil your meal." It was obvious that whatever Jim had to tell us, he didn't look happy about it, meaning that it couldn't possibly be good news.

I looked at Daddy. He nodded. "Girls, why don't we head outside for some fresh air."

It seemed like an odd thing to do, but I could tell that Daddy was trying to make this easier on Jim. Whatever it was. The only thing I could tell was that it was going to be bad. Thoughts raced through my mind as I followed Sheryl through the patio door. I tried to figure out what he could possibly need to tell us. But my predictions were nowhere close to the news he actually delivered to us.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna come out with it Bill," Jim said shoving his hands in his pants pockets. "The school board held an emergency meeting this morning and it was decided that that negro, Herman Boone is gonna be the head coach at T.C."

The news felt like someone punched me in the stomach. Daddy was supposed to be the head coach. He had earned that title. He had worked hard and now just to have it taken away from him, it seemed wrong. Just plain wrong. While I couldn't hide my dismay, I kept my thoughts to myself, unlike my sister.

"It's not fair!" Sheryl shouted as my father absently tried to hold onto her, still processing Jim's words. "It's not fair! My daddy's head coach! This is gonna be his Hall-of-Fame year!"

I wished I could react the way Sheryl was, but I was old enough to know better.

Jim tried to plead with Sheryl. "Now one is trying to take away your daddy's future in the hall."

But Sheryl continued as she started to fight against the grip my father held on her shoulder. "You can't just walk in here and take away my daddy's job."

"That's enough, Sheryl," Daddy said rather quietly the first time. But when she wouldn't listen, his voice became stern as he repeated himself. "That's enough, Sheryl." He gave a firm tug on her overalls, which made her quiet down and instead, she started to silently sulk.

I stood there, still trying to process it all. Jim and Daddy continued to speak, but I wasn't listening to them. I couldn't focus on their conversation because my own thoughts were drowning them out. Just when things finally seemed to be going good for us, the rug was slipped out from beneath us again. We had mostly recovered from Mama leaving us and now, here we were facing another challenge. My first thought was to curse God for forsaking us, but I knew that wasn't right. At least not from what I had learned at church on Sunday mornings.

Daddy rested a hand on my shoulder and I looked at him, trying to hold back my tears. I could tell that he knew what I was thinking. Probably, because he was thinking it too. I sniffled and then said, "How 'bout that Jell-O?" It seemed stupid, but I had to say _something_ otherwise I would just continue to dwell on what I couldn't change.

Daddy seemed to like my idea, so he ushered Sheryl and myself inside as Jim walked back to his car and left us to deal with the aftermath. Surprisingly, we ate our Jell-O in silence. Silence rarely happened at our dinner table. The last time I remembered it being so quiet was just after Mama left us. But we all ate our Jell-O, which turned out just fine this time.

An hour later, the phone rang. I answered the phone. It was a school calling to make Daddy an offer. Bad news sure travels fast around here. Daddy took the phone from me and talked with the man on the other line while I cleaned the dishes and straightened up the mess I had made in the kitchen. It was supposed to be Sheryl's job to do the dishes, but I needed something mindless to do, to keep my mind off things.

By eight o'clock that night, the phone had rung ten more times with schools calling to make Daddy offers. While it was comforting to know that schools were wanting Daddy to work for them, I wasn't sure I was ready to leave Alexandria. This was home. But if I was being honest, I wanted to stay just in case my mama ever came looking for us then she would know exactly where to find us. Despite knowing that would never happen, it was a childish longing of mine.

I was knocked out of my reverie when the doorbell rang. When Sheryl didn't yell _got it_ , I walked over to the door. Who could possibly be coming to visit us at this hour? Sometimes, one of the guys from the football team would show up, so I just assumed it was one of them. I certainly wasn't expecting to see Herman Boone on the other side of that door. But that is who stood in front of me.

"Good evening," he greeted me. "It's Julie, right?"

I was sure my expression was gobsmacked, so I just curtly nodded my head. But before I could say anything, Sheryl appeared at my side with a scowl on her face and her arms folded across her chest. "What do you want?" she snarled.

Coach Boone pursed his lips for a moment before he said, "Is Coach Yoast here?"

Sheryl responded before I could. She was quick like that. "We're busy...interviewing for head coaching jobs. Gotten 11 offers already and certainly no time for you." Knowing how rude she sounded, I flicked my sister's ear. "Ouch," she hissed before looking up at me. "It's the truth."

"It don't mean now's the time to go running your mouth," I hissed back at her.

"Girls, I can take it from here," Daddy said approaching the door. Sheryl and I looked back at him and hung our heads. Daddy looked at Coach Boone and nodded his head. "Well, come on in. I've got an office out back."

Coach Boone looked at Sheryl and I before he took a step forward. "Excuse me," he said as he passed between us and followed Daddy into the house. They were headed back for the patio doors and then out into the barn in the back which was Daddy's office.

Sheryl and I waited a few seconds before we looked at each other. "Let's go," I whispered to her, nodding my head outside. "If we go out the front and sneak around the side he won't see us coming."

"I thought you were trying to be all _mature_ now," Sheryl said with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you wanna know what they're talking about or not? Besides, Daddy probably already knows we're gonna listen in any way. He said as much earlier."

Sheryl smiled and shook her head. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

I couldn't think of a great comeback, so I just muttered, "Shut up." And then we quietly escaped out the front door. We rounded our way around the house and dove into the bushes beneath Daddy's open office window. Clearly, we had _never_ done anything like this before. I motioned for Sheryl to be quiet as I put a finger up to my mouth. She just nodded as we listened in on Daddy and Coach Boone's conversation from the bushes.

Coach Boone's voice carried through the open window, "Look, I can't even spell _diplomacy_ and I'm sorry about the way things went down, but make no mistake, I am _qualified_ to be this school's head coach."

Sheryl and I couldn't help but look at each other. We both rolled our eyes and waited for Daddy to respond. "Sure. You've been in, what, 4 or 5 programs in the past 10 years?" Daddy asked.

"With 4 or 5 championships," Coach Boone argued back.

There was a moment of silence between them. I almost wondered if it was the end of their conversation, but Daddy added, " This isn't about me. I'm worried about my boys." I could see where that would matter. Those boys had worked very hard to get to where they were. Even Gerry Bertier, whom I couldn't stand, didn't deserve _this_.

Coach Boone scoffed. "Well, I ain't gonna cook 'em and eat 'em. The best player will play. Color won't matter."

Daddy replied, "From the looks of our little situation we got us here, I'd say it's about all that does."

I sighed. I agreed with him. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think I was better than _them_ , but I didn't think it was fair how my daddy's job was taken right out from underneath him.

Coach Boone sighed. "Yeah, you're right. We're in a tough spot., Coach. You. Me. The whole city. But I think that it would go a long way to smooth things over if you would stay, work on the staff, be a defensive coordinator, assistant head coach."

My eyes widened. He wanted Daddy to work with him?

But Daddy was thinking the same thing. "Work _under_ you?" Daddy asked.

"If that's the way you see it," Coach Boone responded.

I quickly clamped my hand around Sheryl's mouth. I knew she was going to have _something_ to say and I didn't want her big mouth giving us away. I was surprised when she didn't fight me. Instead, we both sat there and listened for what Daddy was gonna say next.

"Good night, Coach," he said and I knew the conversation was over. Daddy didn't want to say any more on the matter.

Things went silent and I removed my hand from Sheryl's mouth. "Who does he think he is? Coach ain't gonna work _under_ him. No way," she whispered. I nodded my head as I heard the door to the barn swing shut. I could feel Sheryl wanting to move away, but I wrapped my arms around her overalls to keep her back.

Through the bushes in the dim light, I could see Coach Boone come to a stop. He stood there for a moment with his back to us. "Good night, _girls_ ," Coach Boone's said.

Sheryl and I looked at each other in shock as the man started to walk away down the gravel path. How did he do that? How did he know we were there? My sister and I saved these questions until after Coach Boone had disappeared and we ran back to the house, trying not to get caught by Daddy. But as we journeyed across the lawn, we couldn't figure out answers to any of our questions. Although Sheryl was quick to believe that the man had eyes on the back of his head. I knew better.

Once we were in the house, I shooed Sheryl upstairs to get ready for bed. I followed her upstairs, not wanting a run-in with my father tonight. Sheryl went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and I went to my room and closed the door behind me. I flung myself onto my bed, the springs of the bed groaning beneath my weight. It was funny how much things could change in a day.

But this wasn't the first life-changing day of my life. I think what scared me most was how it resembled the day Mama left and I wasn't sure how long it would take for me to find normal again. I rolled onto my back and glanced upward at the ceiling. I said a silent prayer, hoping that a miracle would happen because I couldn't think of any other way to fix what had just happened.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So there's that. haha. I'd just like to thank that anon on Tumblr for asking about this story. It's what got me going! :)**


	4. A Family Affair

**Chapter 4: A Family Affair**

* * *

I walked into the kitchen still in my pajamas the next morning to find Coach making breakfast. I froze and stood there staring at him in confusion. He never made breakfast. I made breakfast. I made breakfast every morning since Mama left. Coach smiled at me as he scrambled eggs in a bowl. It was a strange sight. "Good morning, Julie."

"Good morning," I responded hesitantly. He just smiled at me. Weird. I blinked several times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. I had never done drugs, but I suspected that this feeling could be comparable.

"Have a seat," Coach said and gestured to a chair with his head. "I'm making breakfast."

"Yeah, I can see that," I responded as I slowly inched toward the chair. "Are you sure you got that?"

Coach stopped and looked at me pointedly. "I know how to make scrambled eggs and toast, Julie Elizabeth."

I nodded head in agreement, not quite sure if I believed him. I couldn't remember the last time I saw him cook. Coach's _cooking_ was usually a bowl of cereal or heating up leftovers. Although, someone had to do the cooking when I was younger when Mama was too drunk or up and left for a time. I don't remember much of those days, but if Mama wasn't there to do it, then I suppose Coach must have done it. I must have blocked those memories out. Truthfully, most memories of my mama were too painful, so it was probably better that way.

"Sheryl should be coming down soon," Coach stated.

I just nodded my head, unsure of what to talk about with him. Usually, we talked football, but since he wasn't coaching anymore, I didn't want to bring up a sore subject. So, I just sat there watching him cook the eggs. They were almost done, so he sprinkled some cheese in the pan and cooked the eggs and cheese for about thirty seconds before he dumped the eggs into a bowl. Usually, we just scooped the eggs onto the individual plates. Cheese in the scrambled eggs? Put in a fancy bowl? I couldn't help but wonder if this was Coach's way of trying to soften an upcoming blow, that he was fully aware of but Sheryl and I were not.

Coach called for Sheryl. A few seconds later, she walked in, still in her pajamas. Her hair was going off in all directions as she yawned and rubbed her sleepy eyes. I looked at my dad who just shook his head before he put a cover on the bowl of eggs and set to making the toast.

"What's he doing?" Sheryl asked me.

"Making breakfast," I told her, opening my arms for her to come to me. She waddled over to me and rests her head on my shoulder as I wrap my arms around her. She closed her eyes, but I gently shook her to stay awake. She groaned.

Coach ushered us to the table and we sat down. He offered grace before the scooping of eggs and grabbing of toast commenced. Sheryl immediately dug into the scrambled eggs as I spread strawberry jam from the Boselys on my toast.

"So, girls, I was thinking we should go out for dinner at a restaurant tonight," Coach said. We never ate out at restaurants for dinner. We usually only went out if we were invited to someone else's house or it was understood that someone else was paying. I stared at my father. He was acting really weird. There was something else going on.

"Any special reason?" I asked.

"Does there have to be a reason to take my girls out for dinner?"

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that meeting they've been planning at Hal's, would it?" I took a bite of my toast as I watched him figure out how to respond to me.

"Julie, I'm the parent around here. Don't question me." His voice was stern and his expression told me that his decision was final and that was that. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

I nodded my head, "Yes, sir." I then focused my attention on eating my food, while still thinking that there was something more than just dinner happening tonight.

My suspicions about something going on at Hal's were confirmed when the mailman asked what Coach's announcement was gonna be. I just smiled and told him that he'd have to wait and see. That the only thing I could tell him because even I wasn't entirely sure what he was gonna announce and I lived in the same house as him. I suspected that it was that he wasn't gonna be coaching in Alexandria anymore, but Coach hadn't discussed the decision with us. And while I understood that he was the parent, I felt I was old enough to at least be included in the decision-making process.

Later that afternoon, Coach came in the house from his office and told Sheryl and I to get ready to go out for dinner. I figured I should probably make myself look presentable for public. A pair of jeans and a school t-shirt wasn't going to cut it, especially if Coach was going out of his way to make this dinner special. So, I should do the same. I walked to my closet and opted for a long floral print skirt and a blue sleeveless blouse. I softly curled my hair and let it cascade down my back. The last time I had been this spiffed up had been the homecoming dance last year. Coach made me go.

Although, I suppose it didn't really matter what I looked like tonight. We weren't likely to see anyone besides the team, and their fathers at Hal's-none of whom I really wanted to my any impression on. But, I also didn't want to be an embarrassment to Coach in front of them. I groaned. Sometimes is sucked being a girl. Why hadn't I been born a boy? Things would have been so much easier.

With the first battle won, I moved onto the next one: Sheryl. I tried to get her to wear a skirt. I honestly tried, but she flat-out refused and I knew that was a battle I had no hope of winning. So I made a compromise with her. She could wear her jeans and a nice blouse if she let me French braid her hair. I was happy she accepted my deal, but that didn't stop her from complaining while I braided her hair.

It was then time to head downtown.

When we got to Hal's, Coach held the door open for Sheryl and me to walk inside. To my surprise, the place was already full. Although my prediction about it being the team and their fathers proved to be accurate. I placed my hand on Sheryl's shoulder and tried to push her through the crowd. We walked past Gerry Bertier who stood there with his mouth wide, staring at me in shock.

I rolled my eyes. "You're gonna catch a fly with your mouth open like that," I retorted before I flipped my curls and moved past him. I looked around and tried to find someone to stand by that I could tolerate. I chewed my bottom lip when I spotted Alan Bosely waving at me. He was seated at a table with his father and there were extra places. I smiled at him and tried to push Sheryl in that direction.

"Why are you always so mean to Gerry?" Sheryl asked, looking back at Bertier.

"You wouldn't understand," I said before I gently smacked her bottom. "No, scootch, scootch."

She rolled her eyes at me, but she at least did as I told her. We sat down at the table with the Boselys. Alan offered me a smile as I sat down next to him. "Hey Julie," he greeted.

"Hey, Alan. How're you doing?" I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders. I chuckled. "Yeah, I get that."

Alan looked over his shoulder before he leaned a little closer to me and whispered, "Is it true they gave the head coaching job to that colored fella?"

I saw Bertier turn around and look at Alan and me. I nodded my head in response to Alan's question while glaring at Bertier. Bertier narrowed his eyes before he turned back around, muttering something to Ray who was sitting beside him. I wasn't quite sure what I had done to piss him off this time. Then again, he always seemed pissed-off as far as I was concerned. It was then I realized I was still staring at him, so I shifted in my seat and turned to give Alan a smile.

Alan's father, Fred, sat on the other side of his son. He looked at me and smiled, leaning toward his son. "You look nice today, Julie," Alan's father said.

"Thank you, sir," I responded, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind my ear before I glanced at Alan. He looked rather uncomfortable, his face a little redder than it usually was.

"Alan tells me that you…"

"Dad," Alan groaned before he leaned forward and rubbed his face. I watched him curiously as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Alan's father looked at his son just chuckled. "Forget I said anything, Julie. Forget I even said anything."

Alan shook his head and I arched an eyebrow in confusion. I certainly had missed something there. I wasn't sure what it was nor was I sure that I wanted to find out. Thankfully, I didn't have long to dwell on things because Coach stepped onto the small platform in the front of the room, causing everyone to instantly quiet. For a moment, you probably could have heard a pin drop it was so quiet. But soon the whole room erupted in thunderous applause.

Coach smiled all embarrassed-like before he motioned for the applause to stop. Slowly, the clapping stopped until it was just Sheryl. I reached over and grabbed her hands and looked her in the eye. She rolled her eyes at mine and then shoved her hands into her pockets. I returned my gaze to Coach. He fidgeted a little with everyone staring at him. I could tell that he was planning his words very carefully even though I was sure he had probably went over these words a hundred times in his head this afternoon. "Come on, Daddy," I whispered under my breath.

Coach cleared his throat. "It's been a rare privilege to have lived here as long as I have coaching your boys…" He paused. There were a few grunts and other acknowledgments to Coach's statement. I took a deep breath with Coach, knowing that what he said next was going to deliver a blow.

He began again. "I'll be taking the year off."

Whispers of no echoed through the room. Angered expressions began to fill the room. I folded my hands in front of my face. This was the part I didn't know yet-what he planned on doing. It was probably easier for him this way. To tell Sheryl and I when he was telling everyone else. After all, a lot of these boys seemed like family after all the years they had spent together. I glanced over at Alan, he seemed very much like the brother I never had.

Coach managed to quiet them down again before he continued. "After Julie graduates, I'll be moving to Loudon and taking the head coaching job at Loudon High."

I inhaled sharply. _That_ was why he hadn't told me. He knew I would try to change his mind because I had been a big part of his decision. Even though the schools were integrating, he wanted me to finish out my senior year even though he easily could have found something somewhere.

The crowd instantly reacted to Coach's statement. Cameras began to flash. Men were on their feet shouting. Alan's father pounded his fist against the table. Sheryl who had been resting her elbows on the table with her head in her hands jumped a little Alan's father's reaction. I reached out and grabbed her hand before scanning the room myself. Alan and I briefly made eye contact but he too was searching the room. I started chewing my lip and made eye contact with Bertier as he looked at me over his shoulder. But he quickly tore his gaze away. Why the hell was he always looking at me?

Alan's father pounded his fist against the table and shouted, "I say boycott T.C. Williams!"

"You tell 'em, Fred!" one of the other fathers shouted.

Alan's father nodded his head, seemingly feeding off the negative energy in the room. "Our boys aren't gonna play for some _Coach Coon!_ " he hissed which was met with a rather enthusiastic response from the others in the room. Coach tried to settle things down.

Bertier looked back at me once more before he stood up. "Coach, he stole your job!" Bertier shouted. I blinked in surprise. While Bertier and I were almost never in agreement, this looked like one of those issues we were in complete agreement. No matter how you played it out, Coach Boone did steal Coach's job. It was fact, not up for debate.

Bertier folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not playing for him. I started a petition and I'm sitting this season out."

I blinked slowly, trying to process what Bertier just said. Next, to me, Alan nodded his head in agreement. I couldn't help but watch Bertier. Even if I didn't particularly like him, Gerry Bertier was the best player we had. Hell, he was the best player in Virginia and probably even the whole country. The fact that he was willing to give it all up for Coach surprised her.

Coach stepped off the stage and walked up to Bertier. He rested his hand on Bertier's shoulder. "Only place you're going to sit is back in that chair, Gerry," Coach said sternly before he softly smiled. "I appreciate it, though."

I knew Coach thought of Bertier like the son he never had. I suppose he had similar feelings about all the boys on the football field, but there was always a soft spot for Bertier since he didn't have his father. Coach oftentimes tried to fill that role for him. I remember when we were younger, Bertier was over at our house quite frequently. He and Coach would play catch and most of the time, I would join in. Bertier would usually stay for dinner until his mamma got done with work. Back then, Gerry Bertier was probably my best friend.

But once we got to high school, things changed. Bertier came by the house less and less and suddenly, it seemed like I was almost invisible to him unless he was poking fun at me. It was almost like he seemed embarrassed to be associated with me. But he never stopped looking up to Coach.

I watched as Coach gently patted Bertier on the shoulder and smiled at him. Alan's father then shot to his feet. "Boycott T.C.," he shouted raising his fist the air. "Boycott the school!"

Echoes of agreement filled the room. Almost everyone seemed in support of the proposal, but Coach glanced at Mr. Bosely and shook his head. Coach told Bertier to sit once again before he walked over to our table. He stopped in front of Mr. Bosely, his expression was terse.

"Stop this, Fred," Coach hissed. "You know none of these boys can afford to go to some other district just to play ball. They sit this one out and they put their futures on the line."

Before Mr. Bosely could respond, Ray Budds, who had been sitting next to Bertier, jumped to his feet defensively. "Coach, I'm out too," Ray stated. He folded his arms across his puffed-out chest, wearing a solemn expression as Coach turned to look at him. "I'm not playing for no thief. It ain't right."

"Don't you do this," Coach argued taking a few steps toward Ray. "Don't you make this any harder on me than it already is. This isn't a decision I came to lightly."

Alan had been sitting beside me fidgeting, tapping his hand against his knee. Suddenly, he was on his feet. 'Coach, if you go, I go," Alan said. I could tell he was trying to stand a bit taller to look a little older.

Suddenly everyone in the room was on their feet all up in arms shouting in support of Coach.

One boy shouted, "I'll only play for you, Coach Yoast!"

"Don't go, Coach!" came from another boy.

"You can't leave us!" several boys pleaded.

I looked at Coach. I could tell he was trying to contain his emotions. His eyes were glistening when chants of _Coach Yoast_ echoed through the room. He tried to wave them off, but soon everyone was on their feet clapping their hands in a standing ovation for Coach.

Coach made eye contact with me and I offered him a smile. He sighed. He still wasn't sure how to respond. He was flattered by the boys' loyalty, but he also didn't want to see them put their futures in jeopardy on account of him. Coach nodded his head at several people and sai several thank yous. He looked and me once again and mouthed for me to come along. I grabbed Sheryl's hand and headed for the door.

Coach waited for us at the door as the crowd continued to cheer. Coach opened the door for Sheryl and me before he waved once more to those inside. Sheryl and I exited the building and stopped on the sidewalk for Coach to catch up to us. He did, wrapping one arm around Sheryl's shoulders and one around mine. "How about that dinner?" Coach said with a smile on his face.

He led us to the diner just down the street. Neither Sheryl nor I could find the words to say to him. I was surprised to see tear stains on my sister's cheeks. I hadn't paid her much attention in there, but it was clear she didn't like the situation either.

Once inside the restaurant, the waitress seated us at a booth. She told us that our order was on the house. Coach tried to argue with her, but she quickly shot down his attempts. He looked back in the kitchen to see the cook salute toward him. Coach sighed and then we ordered our food. We all ordered burgers and milkshakes. Coach got a chocolate milkshake, Sheryl a strawberry milkshake, and I went with plain ol' vanilla.

As Sheryl and I sipped the milkshakes the waitress brought us, Coach drummed his fingers against the table looking very deep in though. Sheryl and I exchanged concerned glances. "Coach?" I asked.

He sighed. "That's not the way things went in my head."

I nodded my head in understanding. I took a sip of my milkshake trying to figure out what to say to him before I responded. "You're their coach. You've been their coach for years. You're practically a pillar of this community. Of course, they're going to be loyal to you."

"Yeah, they're loyal all right. Loyal enough to put their futures on the line because of me." Coach shook his head and put it in his hands.

Trying to think realistically, I said, "Well, it's not like all of 'em could play college ball anyway."

Coach looked at me pointedly. "That's not the point."

I opened my mouth to argue my point when the bell on the door jingled. Natural instinct was to look at who was coming through the door. I couldn't fight that urge. So, I looked over my shoulder. I shouldn't have done that. Walking through the door was Bertier with his girlfriend Emma Hoyt. He had an arm wrapped around her waist as he led her into the diner. I quickly turned around and began to sip my milkshake. If anyone hated me more than Bertier it was Emma Hoyt. She went out of her way to make me miserable, which I couldn't really understand. I had never done anything to her. Although maybe that's what she and Bertier had in common: hating me. They were the perfect match in that sense, stuck-up and full of themselves.

I tried not to look too flustered as they walked by our table. I hoped they would just ignore us, but of course, leave it to Bertier to stop at our table. "Coach," Bertier greeted.

Coach smiled. "Gerry, I'm glad to see you've managed to cool down some."

Bertier's arm left Emma's waist and he folded his arms across his chest. I continued to drink my milkshake, trying not to look at them. "I still haven't changed my mind, Coach," Bertier said sternly.

"Gerry, I'm gonna go find a table," Emma said.

Bertier didn't even look at her, he just nodded his head and said, "I'll be right behind you."

Apparently, that wasn't the answer she wanted. I saw her roll her eyes before she put a fake smile on her face and look at me. I tried not to make eye contact with her, but it was like a watching a train wreck, it couldn't be helped. Once she had my attention, she placed a kiss on Bertier's cheek before she walked away with her ponytail swinging as she walked.

I rolled my eyes. That was so unnecessary. There was no need to be so possessive of Bertier in front of me. It wasn't like I even liked him a little...because I didn't. I shook my head and sipped my milkshake again before focusing on Coach again.

"Gerry, you need to rethink what you're doing, son," Coach said. His concern was evident in his tone.

"I have thought about it, Coach. I've been thinking since I found out that _Coach Coon_ took your job. The thing is I'm your player, not his. Plain and simple."

"Gerry, I appreciate that. I do. But you're too good to throw this away."

"I won't play for him, Coach."

"I'm asking you to give it some more thought, son."

Bertier looked at Coach and then at Sheryl and me. Although, I was very interested in my milkshake at that moment. Bertier sighed and pointed at Emma. "I really don't wanna keep my lady waiting, Coach. So, if you'll excuse me."

Coach simply nodded his head and Bertier walked away. I watched as Bertier sat down beside Emma. Of course, Emma had sat down at a booth where I had a perfect line of sight at them. I got up and motioned for Coach to scoot over. He looked confused but he moved over, this way my back was to the couple that would no doubt be sucking face at some point.

Our burgers came and we started eating them. I was mid-bite when Coach asked me, "Why don't you go on any dates, Julie?"

I momentarily choked on my food before I managed to swallow it down. I looked at him with bewilderment which made Sheryl laugh. "The boys are too scared to ask her," Sheryl giggled which made Coach laugh.

"First of all, boys aren't scared of me. Second, who says that I even want to date," I argued with my sister.

Sheryl rolled her eyes. "You do. I'm not stupid."

I rolled my eyes back at her before I took another bite of my burger.

"Do you want to date?" Coach asked.

I blinked rapidly several times. "Excuse me?" I couldn't believe he was asking me about this. We never discussed stuff about boys or dating, which he recognized.

"We never talk about that sort of stuff. You know you are allowed to date, right? I was just joking when I said that you couldn't date until you were forty. Don't get me wrong, I would be much happier if you didn't date until after you were married…"

"Not here," I hissed, covering my face with my hands. I could feel my cheeks aflame as both Coach and Sheryl laughed at my expense.

"Fair enough," Coach chuckled before he looked over his shoulder and then back at me. "Although, I gotta say for a long time there I thought that you and Gerry…"

I didn't want to hear what he had to say, so I slurped the bottom of my milkshake extra loud so that I couldn't hear him. Coach just smiled and said nothing more on the subject. After we finished eating our burgers, Coach thanked the owner for the meal and then we headed home.

Once we were home, I was glad to be able to change out of my skirt and blouse and into a t-shirt and jeans. I was definitely not a girly-girl, but that probably had something to do with being raised by a single father with an absent mother. I walked downstairs to the kitchen for some water when I noticed Coach sitting outside the old tree with the tire swing out back. I filled a glass with some water for him and walked out to meet him.

Coach accepted the water I offered him and took a drink as I sat down beside him. He leaned back against the tree with his eyes closed. He groaned. "What's on your mind, Daddy?" I asked.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "You know that everything I do, I do in yours and Sheryl's best interest, right?"

I hugged my arms around my knees. "Yeah, I get that," I responded.

"You two are my world. You're both so important to me and all that I have especially since…"

"Since Mama left?" I asked. Coach nodded his head. Resting my head on my knees I turned to look at him and gave him a half-smile. He rustled my hair.

He sighed again. "Sometimes, it seems like I can't do anything right and now I've gone and made a mess of things."

"This stuff with the team isn't your fault," I offered. "The schools made the mess. Not you."

"Yeah...but I've coached most of these boys since they were Sheryl's age. I've seen them grow up in front of my eyes almost like they were my own kids."

"Almost," Sheryl stated as she suddenly appeared from behind the tree. I wasn't sure how long she had been back there, but it was obvious that she had been listening to our conversation. Coach patted the ground on the other side of him for Sheryl to sit, so she did.

"I'm the only father some of these boys have…" Coach began. I knew he was referring to Bertier. He sighed again. "This is a heck of a time to be abandoning them to look out for themselves, ain't it?"

I chewed my bottom lip. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"I have this idea. It's probably a crazy idea, but I wanna think on it for a bit yet."

I rested my hand on Coach's arm. "I know you'll do what's best, Daddy."

Coach smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He wrapped an arm around Sheryl's shoulders and then placed a kiss on the top of each of our heads. "I know I don't say it enough, but I love both of you so much." I knew he meant his words. But I also knew that Sheryl and I weren't the only kids he was thinking of either. In Alexandria, football was a family affair. And our family's affairs were about to get much more complicated.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long. I lost 5 chapters I had written for this story and lost hope and then I miraculously found them last week! So, thank you to all of you who have supported this story so far. It truly means the world to me.**

 **Thank you especially to those who have reviewed: Wayward Jules, Hoqwaarts, GreatBigBookofEverything, Just a Lil Bit Country, WaitingForTheLights, Saige Marie, RHatch89, Ariella Blake, ForeverTeamEdward12, leiatemperance, Always Keeps Fighting, EmzMikaelson, Naguabo, JenRIley16, Shanrw123, Alex B Goode, Guest, TK Roses, ZabuzasGirl.**


	5. Draggin' the Line

**Chapter 5: Draggin' the Line**

* * *

I lay awake on my bed staring up at the ceiling. Mornings were just about the only time I got to myself. The only time I really got to think about things. I had a lot to think about these days. Especially about my future. I really had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had always seen taking care of Daddy and Sheryl as a life sentence, but deep down I knew that wasn't the truth. But it did do the trick to help me avoid thinking about my future. Most girls my age were probably thinking about finding the right guy to eventually settle down, maybe some a job...or college. I really didn't have a clue.

A gentle knock came at my door. I knew it was Coach. Maybe if I lay quietly enough, he would think that I was still sleeping and he would go away. I closed my eyes and prayed that would be the case. But soon his gentle knocks became pounds. "Julie Elizabeth Yoast," he called through the door.

I sighed. He only used my full name when he meant business...or I was in trouble. Assuming this time it was the latter, I kept my eyes closed and attempted to slow down my breathing to that he might think I was asleep when he inevitably came marching through my bedroom door. A few seconds later, my door creaked open. I heard Coach's footsteps crossing my bedroom toward my bed. I held my breath hoping that he would just go away, but instead, he gently started to shake me. Knowing there would be no easy way to be rid of him, I slowly opened my eyes, pretending that I had just woken up.

"Coach?" I asked before faking a yawn.

"Julie, you gotta get up," Coach said to me.

I scrunched my face. "But it's summer," I groaned.

"I got some things I need to do today and need you to keep an eye on Sheryl."

I groaned again before I looked at him suspiciously. Wasn't today that meeting for the football team? "Where you goin'?"

But Coach ignored my question. Instead, he said, "I need you to make Sheryl some breakfast."

"She knows how to make cereal."

Coach looked at me pointedly. "And you know how to make pancakes." I threw my head back against my pillows childishly and groaned. "Now, get a move on. Don't make me have to tell you again."

"Yes, Coach," I said forcing myself into a sitting position. He gently smiled at me before he left my room.

Dressed in my Hammond football shirt, which was really more of a dress in comparison, and a pair of old sweatpants, I headed downstairs on Coach's orders, not bothering to change from the clothes I had slept in. I threw my unruly hair in a ponytail as I descended the stairs, hearing Coach attempt to wake Sheryl up.

I growled under my breath because I knew that Sheryl would be allowed to go back to sleep. That was the trouble with being the older sister, I was always stuck babysitting. Sheryl was nine years old and more than capable of fending for herself for at least a few hours, especially with me still in the house. But after Mama left, Coach didn't want Sheryl alone. He didn't want her thinking everyone had abandoned her. I understood his reasoning, but that didn't mean that I liked it.

When I was finally downstairs, I headed straight for the kitchen and opened the icebox. I reached for the milk carton and poured myself a glass for breakfast. I took a sip of my milk when the doorbell rang. I stood there for a moment, waiting to hear Coach's footsteps upstairs. Instead, he shouted for me to get it. I rolled my eyes and took a big swig of my milk before I walked to the door.

Upon opening the door, I found Gerry Bertier standing on my porch in a short-sleeve button-up shirt with the top undone and a pair of blue jeans. For being such an ass, he looked decent…I suppose. Not that I was paying him much attention or anything. "Yes?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He studied my face for a moment. I narrowed my eyes at his scrutinizing. He then motioned to his mouth. "You...uh...you have a little something…" his voice trailed off before he started to chuckle.

With the back of my hand, I wiped away the milk mustache he had pointed out while he continued to laugh at me. He was such a jerk. How younger Julie ever could have considered him a friend was completely beyond me now. He was always acting superior to me. I hated it and he knew it. "What the hell are you even doing here?" I groaned.

"Coach told us to meet him over here," Bertier said with a shrug. I stood on my tiptoes to look over his shoulder. I saw some of the former football players from Hammond standing on my front lawn.

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. "Of course he did."

"Is he here?"

"Yeah," I said before puffing a stray tendril of hair from my face.

"Can you get him?" He looked rather annoyed.

This time I shrugged my shoulders and turned back toward the house. "Coach!" I called. "Bertier's at the door." I looked back at Bertier, he shook his head.

"I coulda done that."

"But you didn't." I looked at him rather smugly. As I leaned against the doorframe, I tried to prop one of my feet up on the doorframe too, but I lost my balance and fell, crashing toward the floor. But Bertier reached out and grabbed hold of me, hooking his arms around mine.

"Still haven't managed to stand on your own two feet yet, huh? You always were falling when we were little. Never knew anyone but you who could fall just standing or sitting there."

"I'm not clumsy," I growled as I managed to stand upright once more.

Bertier just looked at me skeptically before looking over his shoulder. "I gotta few guys back here that might disagree." He stepped aside to reveal what was left of the Hammond football team that would be going out of the T.C. Williams team.

My face flushed when I saw Ray and John pointing my direction and chuckling at my expense. Alan waved at me. Feeling self-conscious, I folded my arms tight across my chest defensively before I looked up at Bertier angrily. "You can go now," I retorted. "Coach will be down in a jiffy."

He leaned against the doorframe with a stupid grin on his face. "You sure you can manage without me?" Bertier laughed at his own words before he turned around and walked back toward the rest of the team.

Now he'd gone and done it. He'd pissed me off and looking back on it, I let him. For some reason I always let Gerry Bertier rile me up and push all my buttons. While I admit that I shouldn't have, I let my temper get the best of me. One of my greater faults and sins: my temper. But there was no way in hell I was going down without a fight.

I looked around to make sure Coach was nowhere in sight when I grabbed the football that Sheryl had carelessly strewn on the floor. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the ball before I turned around back for the front porch. Some of the boys looked at me and wolf-whistled before they turned their attention back to whatever important conversation they were having. Luckily for me, Bertier stood with his back to me. I smirked as my fingers found their proper positions between the laces

I pulled the ball back and released it. While it didn't perfectly spiral as it should, the ball did hit my intended target right in the back of his head. He instantly jolted in surprise and turned around to look at me, a wild expression in his eyes.

"Apparently, I can manage," I shouted before I stood on the porch with my hands on my hips and a smirk on my face.

Gerry rubbed the back of his head, biting back a retort. I could hear the others questioning him about how I managed to hit him, to which Bertier responded that it was a lucky shot. He shot me a look, which told me that he and I both knew he was lying. No matter how much of an ass he was, I suppose there were still some things that Bertier knew better than to mess with and one of those things was our secrets we pledged long ago to keep. But I couldn't help but wonder if the cover-up was because a girl had bested him in front of a bunch of football boys.

I sneered at him as Coach yelled for me to get inside. My face instantly dropped as I ran back inside the house while I could hear Bertier laughing in the background. Clearly, this wasn't over.

Coach quickly pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead before he headed out the door to meet his boys. He was dressed in a nice dress shirt and slacks, a little nicer than his usual field attire. I walked over to the window and moved the curtains to get a better look. I watched Coach walk and his boys greeted him as he walked to his truck. Bertier and Ray hopped in the front seat beside him, while some of the other boys hopped in the bed of the truck. I sure hoped they knew what they were doing.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind me garnered my attention. I turned to find Sheryl standing behind me with her arms folded across her chest and an annoyed expression on her face. "Where are my pancakes?" she asked me.

I rolled my eyes. "Does it look like I've had time to make them?" I scoffed..

"No." This time it was Sheryl who rolled her eyes at me. We made a great pair. She narrowed her eyes at me and continued, "Because you were too busy making eyes at Gerry Bertier."

Needless to say, I was shocked. Wherever had she gotten such an idea? But if I didn't refute her, I wouldn't hear the end of it. "I was doing no such thing. You take it back."

Sheryl rested her hands on her hips. "Yeah, you were. I saw you."

"Well, for your information, I _hate_ Gerry Bertier. I _loathe_ him."

"Mama used to say there's a thin line between love and hate." She was getting bold now. I scowled at her and hissed her name, but she took off running, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Julie and Gerry sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

I took off running after her, but she continued to sing that stupid song. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage."

After about her third time singing the song, I stopped. I realized that I was supposed to be the more mature of us. So, I did the one thing I knew I could hold over her. I held her breakfast hostage. "You'd better stop singing that stupid song or you ain't getting any pancakes."

Sheryl came to a quick halt. "You wouldn't do that," she sneered.

"Wouldn't I?" I breathed, puffing a tendril of hair from my face. "Try me."

She scowled but eventually caved to my will. "Fine," she muttered before she plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

I breathed a sigh of relief and stood a little taller, praying the neighbors hadn't heard Sheryl's song. That was the last thing I needed, the entire town thinking that I had a thing for Gerry Bertier...especially when he had a girlfriend. The idea was ridiculous. Preposterous. I hated him.

I held my head high and shot Sheryl a look of superiority before I walked into the kitchen to make her pancakes. I made Sheryl chocolate chip pancakes, just like Mama did for me when I was little. There weren't many good things I could say about my Mama, but she did make the best pancakes this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. I knew her secret ingredient. Mama used to tell me it was love she added in, but I eventually figure out that it was a hint of almond extract that made them so special.

Sheryl and I practically devoured our pancakes, although breakfast was a rather silent affair. Neither of us said anything, but I knew we both were wondering how the football meeting was going for Coach. When we were done eating, Sheryl washed the dishes without needing to be told. But I think she knew that doing the dishes would help keep her mind off Coach until he got home.

I settled down on the sofa with a book while Sheryl went out back and played in the grass. We were both trying to pass the time before Coach got home, both of us nervous about the outcomes. It felt like an eternity before he finally got home. The dishes had dried and had been put away for quite some time before he finally walked through the front door. Sheryl must have heard his truck pull in because she nearly pounced on him the moment he walked through the door.

"How'd it go?" Sheryl asked. I watched as she held her breath waiting for Coach to respond.

I found myself leaning against the doorframe to the front room watching Coach. He looked at both of us and then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you're looking at T.C. Williams _assistant_ football coach."

Coach tousled Sheryl's hair before he walked further into the house. He must not have been in much of a talking mood before he sniffed. "Is that a pie I smell?"

"It's actually a summer berry crisp," I responded having made it during my spurts of restlessness reading my book waiting for him to get home.

He smiled and headed toward the kitchen. Sheryl and I exchanged glances with each other before we followed after him. "Is that all you're gonna tell us?" I called. By the time Sheryl and I got to the kitchen, Coach already had dug a spoon out of the drawer and scooped a bite of the crisp.

"There's really not much more to tell," Coach said after taking a bite of the crisp.

I rolled my eyes. I wished I could have been there. I hated that it was expected of me to stay home and be left out of everything. I must have worn my annoyance on my face because Coach took a look at me and then offered. "Coach Boone's letting Coach Tyrell come on board for the special teams."

"And how does Coach Tyrell feel about that?"

Coach took another bite of the crisp. 'This is mighty darn good crisp, Julie." I looked at him pointedly. Coach just chuckled. 'That's what took me so long. I had to convince him to come on board, but everything should be squared away now."

"Not everything," Sheryl said stubbornly with her arms folded across her chest. "You should still be head coach."

"Yeah," Coach sighed. He was silent for a moment before he continued. "But it is what it is. I'm just thankful that to have the opportunity to work with my boys for another year. And I don't want to hear another word about it, Sheryl. You hear me?"

Sheryl cast her gaze downward and nodded her head. I chewed my lip. I could tell that most of this was a front for Sheryl. But I can't say I would have done things any differently. I wouldn't want to drag a nine-year-old into the politics that was integration either. I barely understood them, so there was no way she would.

I was about to walk away when Coach called, "Julie, don't make any plans for Thursday evening, okay?"

I turned around and said, "I can't. I'm grounded, remember?"

"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot," Coach chuckled, clearly still amused.

"She don't have any friends anyway," Sheryl retorted. I shot her a dirty look before I looked back at Coach.

"Can I ask why?"

"You can," Coach responded as he put his spoon in the sink. "We're going over to the Bertiers' for dinner Thursday night."

"Come again?"

He chuckled. "Mrs. Bertier caught me as I was dropping Gerry off at home and she invited us to dinner. I said we'd be there...with bells on."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Well, I'm not going." I knew I was being stubborn, but I didn't want to have to endure an evening of torture at Gerry Bertier's expense.

"Yes, you are," Coach said sternly. He was rarely ever this stern with me.

But I fought him anyway. "I can't. I'm busy."

Coach arched his eyebrow. "But you're grounded, remember?"

I groaned at the fact that he used my own words against me. I knew it was immature and childish, but I still found myself rolling my eyes and stomping out of the kitchen and upstairs to my bedroom. I wanted to make sure that Coach knew I wasn't happy about the situation. But it didn't do me any good. Thursday night, I would be headed to dinner at the Bertiers.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has read this story. Just as an fyi-unless this story ever says discontinued on it, know that I am planning on coming back to it. Life gets in the way. Muses shift. Thought you ought to know.**

 **Thanks to my reviewers: Guest, DarkElements10, perfectlystiles, fischgrl, Wayward Jules, Slow Dancing In the Snow, KeepCalmLoveMultipleFandoms, Saige Marie, Naguabo, ChillPillBerry, Hoqwarts, T.K. Roses, RHatch, and ZabususGirl**


End file.
